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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25347337">Expositions</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account'>orphan_account</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Character Study, Exposition, Gen, but told through another character, drakepad</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 06:48:37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,829</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25347337</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Set shortly after the events of Duck Knight Returns, Drake and Launchpad find out how little they actually know about their former idol. So they seek out the one person he knew best: his ex-girlfriend.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Drake Mallard/Launchpad McQuack, Jim Starling/Morgana Macawber</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>49</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Expositions</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>(I don't think this is one of my best works, I consider it more practice than anything but you know what, have it.)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The limousine hit a curb at 491 Stones Drive, backing up and re-adjusting itself to park at the side. Hands gripping expensive leather, Drake cringed as he looked through the passenger window. He hoped Scrooge wouldn’t notice the new dent in his limo. Launchpad shook his head, knocking the front door open too hard for comfort. He tried to ignore the dent as he opened the passenger door, letting Drake out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>St. Canard’s suburbs stretched far and wide, a smorgasbord of housing plots reaching across the city. Today’s weather proved mild, the sun shining high in the cloudless sky. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t always have to chauffeur for me, you know,” Drake took Launchpad’s hand, smirking. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Launchpad snorted, wiping his hands off. “That’s just how it is with Mr. McDee, I always chuff—cha—drive for him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why'd you have to take the limo? Wouldn’t McDuck know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He went off on an adventure and took Della instead of me. No clue why. But he didn’t say I </span>
  <em>
    <span>couldn’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> take the limo this time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Drake raised an eyebrow and cast his partner a cursory glance. He gestured towards their destination.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>An aging Victorian home, wooden and stately, stood in-between the modern brick and plaster houses. The gray facade, dusted with grime, must have been white once. The front yard comprised ancient trees and grass that trembled in the soft wind. Flowers, red and yellow, dotted the corners of the porch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s her?” Launchpad asked, rubbing the back of his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s what it said on Goosle Maps.” Drake shrugged, walking to the front porch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The home had no doorbell. An old-fashioned bronze knocker was in its place instead, carved into a gargoyle’s grimace. Drake put his hand close to it, pulled back for a second, and with an exhale knocked on the door. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Launchpad put two thumbs up and gave a sloppy grin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A minute passed, allowing Drake to stand on the creaky porch deck and feel the breeze past his feathers. Hands behind his back, he twiddled his fingers as he fumbled with whatever he could say once the homeowner answered the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a creak and rattle, the door inched open.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello, I---” Drake paused, the last syllable trailing off as he gazed up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A black swan stood at the door, her impressive height forcing her to bend down an inch from the doorframe. She held her hair in a ponytail reaching down her shoulders. Drake couldn’t tell if she had white highlights or if it was natural aging. She wore a deep maroon robe that sparkled at the faux-fur collar.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you here about Jim Starling?” she asked, putting a hand to her hip. Her voice was smooth and deep, adding to her grace.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Drake shook his head and cleared his throats. “Y-yes! How did you know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She welcomed her guests inside.  “I saw it on the news a week ago. It... It wasn’t how I’d expected him to go, but I realized I don’t know how else he could have gone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Drake stepped into the house with Launchpad following. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He took a moment to take in the intricate details of the antique, but well-maintained home. The foyer made way to a grand staircase, carved in wood, and draped with red velvet. Crystal lights hung overhead, sparkling where the sun shone through the windows. The walls were black, patterned with pale gray flower symbols. The floor was marbled white tile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My name is Morgana McCawber,” she led them into the living room. An early 1990s television sat on the floor, surrounded by bookcases and vases. It’s anachronism, Drake thought, but a tasteful sort of anachronism.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was his girlfriend.” she continued, sitting on a couch with her legs crossed. “I was always there for him, but... It didn’t last long, you know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Drake nodded, taking a seat on her red faux-satin couch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your house is lovely, Miss McCawber.” Launchpad tittered. “I bet Mr. McDee would be jealous!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Drake elbowed Launchpad, glaring at him before regaining his composure and turning to Morgana. “Sorry. He’s talking about his boss. No big deal.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you. I heard about you guys. Two big fans. Drake Mallard here was going for the Darkwing Duck role, yes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Drake blushed, rubbing at his head. “I, yeah. I was going to. Didn’t end up so well...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s okay. I believe in you. Being such big fans of Jim Starling, you probably want to know more about him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Drake nodded, “Yes. We knew Jim had a lover, a fellow actress on his show. She used to play the wicked sorceress, Madame Hex.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That was me,” Morgana clapped her hands. “I was Darkwing Duck’s arch-nemesis but also love interest. Funny how that played into real life.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I remember when she---you turned Darkwing Duck into a frog, and he had to go around this froggy body trying to defeat you and turn back into his old self, but it turned out the only cure was a kiss from you!” Launchpad slapped his knee and laughed, falling back into the couch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We used a puppet,” she explained. “We had somebody come to the studio, a professional puppeteer who made Darkwing Frog look convincing. I had to kiss the puppet too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The three shared laughs, reminiscing over the heyday of the show. Morgana took the next half-hour to talk about her other experiences working on the show, how the studio constructed the sets, and how Jim improvised much of his scenes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>From the comments Morgana made, Drake could tell Jim was passionate about his show. She told him how much he wanted to work on it and do everything his way. She told him how it broke Jim’s heart the day the show was canceled, even though the cancellation was partially his fault. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After many minutes, Morgana checked her watch. “Would you like some tea? Snacks? I’m sorry, I should have asked you earlier.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s fine! I’m good!” Drake waved his hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll take some snacks!” Launchpad piped up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Morgana stood from the couch, and Drake watched as she retreated into the kitchen, returning with a tray of hot tea and potato chips. Launchpad stuffed the chips in his mouth, and Morgana took a teacup into her hands. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Drake. I would like to know a little more about you. More than I already know, I mean.” She blew over the tea and took a sip.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well...” Drake rubbed his head “I was always a huge fan of Darkwing Duck. He was my hero; he helped me gain my confidence and all. I’m still the president of his fan club, but I don’t think I’ll get any new members after everything that happened.” He paused and stammered, “A-and I may or may not be Darkwing Duck now. Uh, don’t tell anyone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Morgana chuckled. “I’ll take the secret to my grave, don’t you worry. I had a feeling, anyway. The best thing you can do is keep Jim’s legacy alive that way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks,” Drake flushed. “Er, now on to Jim. What was he like? How did you two get together? Oh, man! I have so many questions!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay. I’ll tell you everything. I’m surprised and somewhat flattered you still want to know him after what happened.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Drake frowned, a slight heaviness weighing upon his shoulders. “I’ll be honest; it isn’t easy. I still have nightmares. I look at his posters and begin to doubt myself. Launchpad here always says, don’t worry. But I thought to myself, if I didn’t get any answers to what happened, I would snap. I think I need therapy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But he can’t afford it, and Mr. McDee’s not sending him any money soon.” Launchpad shrugged. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Drake elbowed him again, and Launchpad apologized.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You guys are cute,” Morgana cooed, taking another sip of tea. Drake and Launchpad flushed red, looking away for a second.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “It’s okay, it’s okay,” She put a hand to her bill, giggling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In that moment, the air stilled. The only sounds, background noise. The trio looked at each other, not sure who would say what first. Drake, most of all, ruminated over whether he should know the truth about Jim Starling. Beyond the anecdotes Morgana gave earlier; the actual, raw truth. Warts and all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” Drake exhaled. “Go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What can I say about Jim Starling?” Morgana set the teacup back on the table. “There’s so much to say. He had plans for an autobiography, but it never took off the ground.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Morgana continued, “I hadn’t seen him since the show’s cancelation. That took a severe toll on him. We broke up shortly before this, but I think the cancelation was the last straw on his fragile psyche.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Was he always...” Drake held his tongue, struggling to find the words. “This </span>
  <em>
    <span>much</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Morgana let out a humorless chuckle. “Yes. He was arrogant, always thinking about himself first before anybody else. He was horrible to everybody on the set behind the scenes, and I know he’d retreat into his trailer and cry like a baby.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Drake stalled. He had anticipated this type of response, but it still stung. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He...Did he have...problems?” He asked. It was a stupid question, he thought, but he didn’t know how to keep the conversation moving forward.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Morgana nodded. “He rarely wanted to see a psychologist, but as somebody who majored in that field in college, I saw signs. I don’t want to use his mental illness as an excuse for his actions, of course, but it explains quite a bit. There were other factors in play, too. I knew him since college, and we both acted on the show for several years.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t realize you knew him that long.” Drake said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, that’s something they don’t tell you. Jim didn’t tell anybody he’d known me since college...I have something to show you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Morgana stood up and walked over to a bookcase adjoining the TV. Tracing her fingers along each book’s spine, she held her breath as she found the one she’d been searching for. It was a hundred pages thick, deep-blue and dusty with age. Book in her arms, she returned to the couch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is a photo album I compiled from back when the show was on air, and we were still dating,” Morgana explained, opening to a random page. “There’s a lot here. Many memories, some good, some bad. Mostly bittersweet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Drake scooted closer to Morgana. The pages of the album were covered in photographs dating to the early 1990s. Stains, coffee or otherwise, discolored some of the pages and photos.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took Drake a second to recognize Jim. He knew the actor had to be the one in the Darkwing Duck costume. However, when out of costume, Jim wore a typically 90s yellow sweater. He was young, about Drake’s age perhaps, with a full head of feathers and bright eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know,” Morgana nudged Drake. “I think you look a lot like he did.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Drake blushed, stammering. “Er...I... thanks?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Being compared to Jim Starling in that manner...part of Drake wanted to take pride in it. Jim was his hero growing up, and he was now Darkwing Duck. However, the other part felt ashamed that he could be compared to Jim in his prime, fearing that he could fall from grace just like him.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He was so excited on the first day of filming,” Morgana pointed to a photograph of the entire Darkwing Duck cast smiling. “But, he was also scared. He wouldn’t admit it, but I could tell he was nervous about whether the pilot episode would be a hit or miss. If the show failed, he would be out of money, and out of focus.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Worked out well for him, at least,” Drake muttered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Morgana smiled, “For some time, yes.” He pointed to a photograph of the Fearsome Four out of costume. “These guys---Danny, Mike, Reggie, and Bud. They had a lot of talent as well as a lot of makeup. They never got along with Jim that much. At some point Jim wanted them fired, but the director said no, they were low on budget and couldn’t afford better replacements.”</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Morgana flipped a page, continuing. “Jim was what you’d call a method actor. Always wanted to be in character as Darkwing. It got to the point where it was hard to tell the difference between him and the character. He was egotistical, an attention hog, recklessly brave, and so very desperate. He ended up writing his own scripts because he felt that the previous script writer was, and I quote, ‘getting Darkwing Duck completely wrong’.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She pointed to a photograph of Jim, dressed in his Darkwing Duck costume while posed at a dramatic dutch-angle. The shadows of the Fearsome Four could be seen behind him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here’s a publicity shoot. He loved these. You know why Darkwing says ‘let’s get dangerous’? It’s really Jim telling the director what he wants to do next. He actually would bring in real weapons and other dangerous material on-set and use them as props. He injured himself so many times, and his co-actors even more. We were all afraid he would actually kill somebody on set.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s...” Launchpad cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his head, “That’s dedication.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Perhaps,” Morgana said. “Don’t get me wrong, he could be amazing when he wanted to. It’s just that almost no one could predict what he wanted to do next.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did he create Darkwing Duck to inspire others, or was it just for fame?” Drake asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Both,” Morgana flipped another page. “Old superhero comics and shows inspired Jim; he loved The Shadow. That was his hero, and he thought to himself that he could create a personal hero for the next generation. He also wanted to grab everybody’s attention, to prove to himself how cool he could be. Everybody did that in the 90s, always trying to be the most radical and attention-catching as possible. I don’t think he was following trends, however. He wanted people to love him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did they?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes and no. Much of the cast and crew couldn’t tolerate his behavior. Jim loved getting </span>
  <em>
    <span>attention</span>
  </em>
  <span> but not being near people. Except for me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She traced a finger over a photograph of herself and Jim, embracing and kissing like the sweethearts they used to be. “He hated pity, but he knew I pitied him. I always saw a side to him no one else did. He was a jerk, sure. Thought only for himself and put others down constantly, but you know. I always knew there was a reason for him to act like that. It wasn’t just out of nowhere.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Drake and Launchpad shared glances. Drake’s eyebrows knotted as he took a deep sigh. “Tell us.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Again,” Morgana frowned, “I don’t want to excuse any of his actions. Here’s something he wanted to keep as a secret, but I’m sure everyone knew anyway. He was putting on a sort of facade for himself, getting onto the highest horse possible so he could climb away from his internal self-doubt. His parents ignored him, and Darkwing Duck was a way to escape from his neglectful youth. He craved attention, went to desperate measures to stay in the spotlight and seek validation...All because he was afraid of being forgotten all over again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She continued. “He wasn’t a happy person. Sure, he liked getting fans and autographs at first, but it wore him out over time. Being Darkwing Duck was the only time he felt good about himself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She flipped a page and pointed to a photograph of Darkwing Duck centered in a spotlight, looking upwards with a somber expression.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We broke up because not only did he only care about himself, he was also needy to a fault and clung to me like a lost child looking for his mama. Our relationship became codependent at that point. He couldn’t take care of himself without me, and I couldn’t live without him.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t regret breaking up with him,” Morgana continued. “It was stressing us out. I never dated or married anybody afterward and I don’t believe he did, either. He wasn’t committed. We fought, we cried, Jim drank himself to sleep, but...I don’t regret it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Drake lowered his head, downcast. “Yeah...I... I guess I should have expected better from him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay,” Morgana put a hand to his shoulder. “It’s not your fault. No one could tell what Jim was going to say or do next. He was charming and witty, always good with comebacks and one-liners. He was great with ladies. He could put up a mask and be friendly to his fans, taking pictures with them. Smart guy, always had a lot to speak his mind on. Just, you know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Darkwing Duck was always my hero. But Jim? I mean...Was he really that...?” Drake cupped his head in his hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I promise you he had humanity in him,” Morgana placed a hand on Drake’s lap. “He was far more amiable in the early days before the show got canceled, before fame got into his head. All I recall afterwards is that he got jaded and disillusioned, escaping into reclusivity except for the occasional signings.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now that I think about it,” Drake rubbed his chin. “He wasn’t happy at the signings at all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. If I had to guess, at that point it became less about fans and more about money and whatever scraps of attention he could get left. Probably used that money for alcohol. He was a heavy drinker because of his parents..”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He saved our lives,” Launchpad said. “Or I think he did. Before that, I got to talk him out of his rampage...he actually pushed us out of the way and sacrificed himself!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Morgana flipped another page. “Let me tell you what I think is the truth. Jim may very well have saved your lives, but knowing him, there’s a chance he did it for selfish reasons too. Your speech made him realize what he’d done wrong, and it certainly could have been a reason he saved your lives. On the other hand, I think he did it to preserve whatever glory he had and to pass on as a martyr.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She flipped to the end of the album, pointing at a single photograph on a page.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is the last picture I have of him. We broke up a few months later.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dated September 1992, the picture consisted of Morgana and Jim alone. The two were dressed casually in autumn wear, sitting at a bench. Jim’s hand was over Morgana’s shoulder, and the two still seemed like lovebirds who had no idea they would be torn apart so soon.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you think he ever had a chance?” Drake asked, looking at Morgana with a wistful expression.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A chance at becoming a better person? I don’t know.” Morgana shrugged. “I would like to hope so. In hindsight, perhaps even the best therapist couldn’t take him on. They’d consider him unredeemable.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not your fault,” Drake said. “It feels like mine, though.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, it’s not your fault either.” Morgana shook her head, closing the album. “It was his own self-centered and self-destructive behavior that led to his undoing and the cancelation of the show. The same goes for what happened at the studio for the movie. He could never let the past go, and he could never give up on Darkwing Duck. Could Boorswan have let him know about the movie? Sure, but it’s still on Jim that he decided to be selfish and possessive over his best-known role.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Morgana continued, putting her hands on Drake’s shoulders. “But you know what? Forget what he said and tried to do. Focus on what you will do as Darkwing Duck in the future. If you dwell on the past too much, you could end up like him. What Jim Starling did in the past belongs to him. Only the future is yours to take.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Drake’s eyes watered. A brief heaviness took over, his heart a balloon made of lead. His mind filled with fog, trying to figure out what to say next. How could he say anything else? How could he make up for her, the woman who loved and lost Jim Starling?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” His voice quivered. “You’re too kind.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Back then I had a sharper tongue and residual teenage angst,” Morgana gave a cheeky smile. “I’ve just mellowed out with age, and I did go to therapy. I guess I have Jim to thank for that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait,” Launchpad looked around, placing one finger up. “How often do people come here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sometimes, fans visit. I’m willing to talk to them, except if they’re rude. I rarely let them </span>
  <em>
    <span>inside</span>
  </em>
  <span> either. I know you two are special, however. You met Jim Starling, and he saved your lives,” she explained. “So, you get VIP access.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Launchpad laughed at the joke, and Drake enjoyed it, but he didn’t feel like laughing. Guilt still pulled him down with ropes and pulleys. Self-doubt poked and jabbed at him like syringes. After the explanation, after the shared memories and Morgana’s reassuring words, he didn’t feel </span>
  <em>
    <span>right</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was still too much to consider. The burden of living after your hero’s death. The guilt of watching him die and doing nothing. The worry that Jim was still out there, that he---</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Drake,” Morgana interrupted his internal monologue. “Don’t you think it’s time to get back home? It’s getting late.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, yeah!” Launchpad slapped his forehead. “I forgot Mr. McDee’s supposed to come back tonight! He won’t be happy if he knew we took his limo!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Launchpad,” Drake held his partner’s shoulder, “It’s okay. I’ll say it was my idea.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Morgana stood up to place the album back in the bookshelf. “You can go. Thank you so much for visiting me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, thank you for letting us talk about Jim with you.” Drake rubbed the back of his head. “I-I was honestly worried that you’d refuse somehow, or that you wouldn’t even be home.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t blame you for thinking that, not after what happened with Jim.” Morgana picked up the tray. “It’s okay to be cautious. If you’re ever feeling anxious, just remember one thing, Drake.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Drake looked up. “Yes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are Darkwing Duck. And don’t let anyone make you think otherwise.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not even Jim?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not even Jim.” Morgana repeated. She set the tray in the kitchen sink and returned. “But you can still look up to his work.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Drake smiled. “Thanks...well, I guess we should go?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Morgana nodded, motioning to the front door. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She waved as the pair took their leave, watching as they drove off in the dented limousine. She looked up at the sunset, the sky now painted with reds and yellows.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There were still a lot of things she left out, things about Jim that she thought the two weren’t ready to hear. She sat down on the porch’s wooden stairs, and continued to gaze at the sunset.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe another time.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The ending is rushed, I know, I'm sorry. I'll do better next time.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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